


New Quarters

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-19
Updated: 2006-03-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:58:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Memories of a life together. (03/13/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: I hate deathfic, yet feel compelled to read it. One day I found myself compelled to write one of my own. It's probably the only one I'll ever write and it's not exactly slash, but.  


* * *

I don't know why the funeral is in the armoury. Something technical—torpedo tubes, I think. They are going to fire the captain's body out in a torpedo. Forever at rest among the stars. It's a good idea. Jon would have liked it. I like it. I hate it. It means he is dead.

I am on the armoury's upper level, watching; wanting to be here, but not wanting to play a part. People talk, reliving their memories of Jon; meaningless platitudes and honest emotions alike, they all simply pass me by. I have my own memories.

* * *

We lay on the bed together in Jon's apartment. He ran his hand down my back in quick excited strokes, almost more interested in what he was saying than in pleasuring me. I didn't mind. I loved to see him this excited. When he started restless pacing I was tempted to join him, but instead lay back and watched, listening as he described Enterprise; how we'd live there, together between the stars. I was so happy to be going with him, potential drawbacks, problems that it might cause, were pushed aside. Jon said it would be all right, that we'd cope, the others would understand. Jon said, therefore it would be so. He was still invincible then.

* * *

Enterprise was all that he promised; new, different, exciting. Away missions, those that I went on, were an adventure. We settled into a routine. It was comfortable; dangerous at times, but comfortable. What did it matter that we sailed through space, that there was no sky, no sun, no rain. It was what Jon wanted. We were together; that was what I wanted. Now he was gone.

* * *

I think back to our last moments together. Again, we were on Jon's bed, this time in his strangely sterile quarters. Jon had a beer. A water polo game played on the monitor, but his mind was only half on it. One hand caressed my head, massaged my neck. I loved it when he did that and I stretched into the touch, encouraging him. He laughed, ran a finger round my ear, then leaned forward to plant a kiss on my nose. His lips were warm and soft; the sharp smell of cologne and the minty freshness of toothpaste flooded my senses. I am going to miss that smell. Abandoning the water polo entirely, he rolled me onto my back, then sat back looking at me splayed out under his gaze, all my defences down, Jon's to do with as he wanted.

'Hussy,' he said. 'You do know that you're a hussy, don't you?' His hand took hold of my jaw and my body tensed with anticipation. Then the com chimed, and the moment was gone.

His com conversation over Jon turned to me and smiled. 'Hold that look,' he said. 'I'll be back before you know it.'

I never saw him again.

He left the ship without coming back to his quarters. When he was brought back on board, he was dead and they wouldn't let me see him.

* * *

Now here we are in the armoury. Mourning the captain. Clustered around the cold steel-encased corpse that is no longer him. Not a dry eye in the place. He would have been touched to see how much they all, we all, loved him; how much we miss him.

Lieutenant Reed presses a control on his console. A sudden noise from the machinery; a sudden quiet from the people. Jon is gone. People start to move, to relax. Small groups form, split apart, reform. Conversations start; still hushed, but more normal now. Still discussing Jon. Gone, but not forgotten, still the centre of their attention.

Except for Commander Tucker.

He remembers me; thinks of my pain, my mourning. I watch as he approaches. He climbs the stairs until his face is level with mine, then pauses to tug on my ear. Finishing his climb he bends down to speak to me.

'Come on, Porthos,' he says sadly. 'Time to take you to your new quarters.' I can see the tears in his eyes.

I wish I could cry.


End file.
